What about breakfast on Wednesday?

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

It's probably not morning wherever you are, but it is for me, though I apologize for being late! I remain untldeathtakeme an
d today's theme is breakfast! I am a huge fan of breakfast and wanted a whole day of prompts around it! Prompts should involve breakfast in some capacity (even it's sad absence).

Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the spoiler cut.
If there are possible triggers in your story, please warn for them in the subject line!

Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt

Some examples to get the ball rolling...

+ bbc Sherlock, John Watson+/Any, woe betide whoever eats the last of the jam and doesn't replace it

+Justified, Any+/Any, a full Southern breakfast

+ Any, Any+/Any, over the top waffles

+Any, Any/Any, Character A is not a breakfast person and Character B is determined to change their minds

We use AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2019 collection. See further notes on this new option here.

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 1 (not very current), Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet 2, or the Calendar Archives, or for more recent prompts, you can use LJ's advanced search options to find prompts to request and/or fill.

While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheets and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.


tag=breakfast

Comments

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

bbc Sherlock, John Watson+/Any, woe betide whoever eats the last of the jam and doesn't replace it

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

Justified, Any+/Any, a full Southern breakfast

Fill -- A Good Breakfast (Boyd and Ava Crowder)

[vanillafluffy.livejournal.com]

Ava Crowder is his kind of woman. Boyd smiles as he gets dressed. From down the hall, he can hear her bustling around: drawers and cupboards opening and closing, the clink of cutlery hitting the table, the ring of the plate on the counter, the scrape of the spoon in the pot as she stirs the grits. The air is perfumed by bacon sizzling and popping in the old cast-iron skillet, freshly brewed coffee in the carafe on the counter…he knows from experience that she’ll start frying his eggs as he enters the kitchen, settling his plate down in front of him when he sits down at the table with his coffee.

She’s a fine cook and understands that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Boyd’s willing to skip lunch if he’s busy and supper can be any old thing--yes, he likes fried chicken, and he knows every barbecue joint for three counties around, but it’s breakfast that sets the pace for the rest of the day. Short yourself on breakfast and you’ll be playing catch up all day long.

Some gals just don’t understand that. He once had a brief fling with a woman from Connecticut--brief being the operative word, because she just didn’t get his insistence on breakfast on his terms. She actually believed that toast and black coffee was enough to prime the pump for a person’s day.

Not hardly. Coffee with cream, thank you, and two sugars. Real butter on his toast (or better yet, fresh-baked biscuits with pepper gravy). That Connecticut lady served up some kind of healthy alternative spread on wretched gluten-free toast--he’s pretty sure it was carefully disguised industrial lubricant. Whatever it is, it’s some nasty stuff. That was the last straw. Boyd is under no illusions; with his lifestyle, the odds are he’ll be shot to death long before cholesterol has a chance to kill him, and when he goes, it wants it to be with a bellyful of good food that he enjoyed eating.

“Morning,” Ava greets him as he strolls into the kitchen to pour and doctor his coffee. “I hope you’re hungry.”

He spons up behind her and nibbles her ear as she breaks eggs into the skillet. “Always am,” he murmurs before turning to the coffee pot.

When she deposits his plate on the table, he grins with anticipation. Two fried eggs over easy, biscuits and gravy, bacon and sausage and a bowl of steaming buttery grits. There are extra biscuits on the side and a jar of wild blackberry jam on the table. “Enjoy!”

Boyd licks his lips. “I surely will.”


…

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

Any, Any+/Any, over the top waffles

Serving Up Some Artistry, Kyrie/Nero + Nico Goldstein + the orphans (Devil May Cry)

[creepy_shetan]

(When was the last time I wrote pure fluff? XD; And canon het? XD;;; Wow.)


Kyrie held up a hand and shook her head, blocking Nero's path.

"We can't go in until she's finished," she told Nero solemnly. He could see the smile she was trying to smother, however. Not to mention smell the sweet scent drifting from the kitchen.

"Nico. Is making waffles." Nero glanced around. "Where's the fire extinguisher?"

"I heard that!" came Nico's muffled yell. Standing tiptoe, Kyrie leaned closer to speak quietly into Nero's ear.

"She said she had a vision this morning."

"Oh, that's just great," Nero muttered. "Y'know we're gonna be eating cigarette ashes, right?" Kyrie swatted him on the arm. "And who knows how much money she spent..."

"Come on," she said with a knowing smile and a gentle pull on his hand. "The kids are setting the table and pouring drinks."

"Is it too early for--"

"Nero. Don't worry."

"All right, all right."

Five minutes later, Nico emerged from the kitchen with a loud "Tada!" and a large tray in her hands. The wide-eyed surprise on the kids' faces was enough to soften Nero's expression, but Kyrie's slow bump into his shoulder and her arched eyebrow for his eyes only made him chuckle. As he returned the shoulder bump and watched the kids eagerly dive into the (honestly tasty-looking) breakfast, Nico looked up from pouring syrup and waved a can of whipped cream in Nero's direction.

"What's so funny over there? Ya better get some before these monsters devour 'em all." Nico held a plate high overhead and out of reach of greedy little fingers, passing it and the whipped cream to Kyrie. "Blueberry, strawberry, banana? How about chocolate syrup or chocolate chips?"

"Strawberry and banana," Kyrie said after a moment's thought. "Thank you, Nico."

"No problem!" She motioned to Nero. "I bet that one's a banana and chocolate chip guy," Nico said and started piling on toppings on another plate of waffles.

"I can be," Nero said, then added warily, "Okay, not that much. No, really."

"There ya go!" Nico announced as she passed him the plate, her grin practically blinding him.

Nero sighed. "Where are the waffles, Nico?"

"Ehh, they're in there. Just dig around for 'em."

"These are delicious, Nico," Kyrie complimented before Nero could reply. Unfortunately, her diversion from their bickering led to a chorus of agreements and requests for more from the other half of the table.

"Nope, that's all for today, sorry. Kitchen's closed. These are all mine," she said, drawling out the last two words as she pretended to protect her plate of berries and cream, earning her a few giggles. "Y'all finish up whatcha got and get to washing dishes for me," Nico continued, which of course led to a couple of groans. "Hey, someday you'll cook and I'll clean."

Nero almost choked on his orange juice when he heard a "yes, ma'am" among the mumbled okays and thank yous. Kyrie elbowed him in the ribs without glancing his way, instead taking another bite of fruit. He got the hint.

"Thanks, Nico. They're really good."

She waved him off, mouth full.

"No sweat. Been a while since I made waffles," she said when she could. "But I had to. Woke up bright and early with a vision." She spread her hands in front of her, gesturing to her waffles and the table as a whole, her expression dreamy -- and a little unhinged, in Nero's opinion.

"Yeah, I heard," he replied with a dubious look. Hoping to avoid any talk about artistic skills, he said, "A bit of advice, though? Maybe lighten up on the toppings next time."

"Ha, never. Besides, I see none of you had a problem with licking your plates clean."

The kids paused, hands full of dirty dishes and feet almost out the door.

"Wait, we can lick them clean?"

"No," the three adults in the room stressed in unison, with one adding "you may not" and another adding "that's gross."

A couple of seconds after they left for the kitchen, Nero put down his fork and sighed.

"I'll wash their stuff again with soap."

Kyrie kissed his cheek.

"I'll help you."

[untldeathtakeme.livejournal.com]

Any, Any/Any, Character A is not a breakfast person and Character B is determined to change their minds

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes +/ John Watson, one of them secretly loves Marmite on toast for breakfast

Fill -- Marmite on toast

[vanillafluffy.livejournal.com]

Sherlock is out and about unusually early this morning, which is just perfect, as it allows John to indulge in one of his favorite guilty pleasures, namely, Marmite on toast for breakfast. He starts the electric kettle, places two slices of bread in the toaster and goes rummaging in his cupboard for the precious Marmite jar.

It lives all the way at the back of the very bottom cupboard--Sherlock is slightly less likely to bend double to go snooping down there--not that there’s anything particularly illicit about Marmite. John simply doesn’t want to row about it, since Sherlock’s response when he sees the jar on the table has been a disparaging, “That stuff.”

Yes, John thinks happily, that stuff. He anticipates the savory goodness atop his buttered toast. As his tea steeps, he slathers butter on his lightly browned slices--cholesterol be damned!--opens the jar….

To his dismay, there’s only enough left for a stingy portion on one slice--barely that. Damn, how has he allowed this to happen?

Resolving to stock up the next time he’s at Sainsbury’s, John munches his treat, mentally making a list of other things they may need to camouflage his true objective. There are only a few slices of bread left, and that’s getting stale he’ll get a fresh loaf…some of that marmalade that Sherlock likes, perhaps some fish fingers? They’re simple to fix and it’s been a while since they had them last.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hudson,” he hears. Sherlock’s back! Hastily, John pops the last bite of Marmite-smeared toast into his mouth. He grabs the empty jar and looks around anxiously. He doesn’t want to risk throwing it into the bin from here; instead, he crams it into the pocket of his jumper. The remaining slice, naked save for butter, lays innocently on his plate.

Enter Sherlock, carrying a plastic shopping tote. “Good morning, John!”

John swallows his toast. “My, aren’t you an early bird this morning.”

Sherlock sets the bag on the table and pulls out several different morning papers as well as a jar of marmalade and sets them on the table. “I had a yen for something sweet for breakfast.”

Well, damn. John crosses that off his mental list. Next to emerge from the carrier is a loaf of bread. Double damn. “You don’t have any fish fingers in there, do you?” he asks, half jesting.

“No. Whyever would I?”

“Oh, I was just thinking it was a while since we’ve had them. A yen, as you’d say.”

“Nothing to stop you running out to get some, if that’s what you fancy” Sherlock points out. “I was thinking mainly of breakfast, not supper.” Then to John’s astonishment, he pulls a familiar brown and yellow object from the bag, which he sets on the table in front of him.

It’s a jar of Marmite. Not just any jar, either--it’s the extra large squeezable jar, quite deluxe.

“I noticed you were getting a bit low,” Sherlock’s tone is gruff. “And you’re much easier to deal with when you aren’t deprived of your idea of a proper breakfast.”

So John gets a generous helping of Marmite on his second slice after all, and Sherlock contents himself with marmalade and toast while perusing the papers.

“Thanks, old man,” John says, as he does the washing up. “I know you don’t much care for 'that stuff'.”

Sherlock reaches into John’s pocket and removes the empty jar which he chucks into the bin. Then he leans over and plants a kiss on John’s lips. “It isn’t so bad…secondhand.”

...

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers (/Sam Wilson), breakfast in bed

[shanachie-quill.livejournal.com]

Yeeees I’ll get on this soon!

[shanachie-quill.livejournal.com]

It was the smell of something burning that woke Bucky. “Steve?” he called, throwing back the covers and starting to get out of bed.

“Everything’s fine!” Steve called back. “Just stay there!”

“That doesn’t smell fine!”

“I’ve got it under control. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Jerk,” Bucky muttered, not quite under his breath.

“I heard that.”

“Super hearing, not just for the battlefield,” Bucky commented as he flopped back onto the bed. “What are you doing?” he yelled as something crashed in the other room.

“It’s all okay!”

A minute later, Steve appeared in the doorway to their bedroom. His blond hair was tousled and he clutched a tray in his hands. Bucky maneuvered himself into a sitting position as Steve crossed the room and set the tray over his lap with great ceremony. “Happy birthday,” he proclaimed.

Bucky looked down at the plate; burned toast, slightly runny eggs, crispier than needed bacon, and smiled. Steve might not be able to cook worth a damn, but it was absolutely the thought that counted. Reaching up, he pulled Steve forward until he could kiss the other man. “Thank you. I love you.” Looking down at the food again, he commented, “But how about I cook a meal we actually want to eat?”

“Are you saying I can’t cook?” Steve asked as Bucky moved the tray aside so he could get out of bed.

“Steve, you do many things very, very well, but for the love of all that is holy. Stay out of the kitchen!” Bucky said as he grabbed pants, pulling them on before he headed for the other room.

Steve poked at the meal with his finger. “It is pretty bad?”

“So bad, jerk,” Bucky responded. “Bring the tray out here.” He’d reached the kitchen by then. “What did you do to my kitchen?!”

Steve winced. He was going to have a lot of making up to do for his attempt to be romantic. But at least they had time.

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, Evan Lorne/Rodney McKay, Rodney's pulled an all-nighter and Evan surprises him with breakfast

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

Any, any/any, going out for brunch

[sherlockian-syn.livejournal.com]

Any, any +/ any, the breakfast buffet at a hotel or casino

Fill: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange + OC

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

“You have a skill. Like, an actual marketable skill. Do you know how many people have cooked for me over the years? You’re absolutely the best.”

Elinor flushed. “That’s kind of you to say.”

“Do you have to take classes? Like cooking classes? Or is it more a natural talent?”

“It’s quite simple to make an omelet, sir,” Elinor said. She slid Mr. Stark’s out of the pan and onto the plate and did a quick garnish before handing it across the omelet station.

“No, yours are better than any I’ve ever had before. You’re a bona fide Eierkünstler.”

The man Mr. Stark had been dining with the last two days, Dr. Strange, came over and put his hand on Mr. Stark’s shoulder. Elinor wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, but his hands were scarred and had a noticeable tremor.

“You’re holding up the line, Tony. And embarrassing this young woman.”

Elinor appreciated the sentiment, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t appreciate the attention of the man who owned the grand hotel that employed her.

“She’s not embarrassed. You’re not embarrassed, are you?” Mr. Stark asked.

“Of course not, sir.”

“There, see? Elinor, if you ever want to have proper culinary training, you let me know. I’d gladly sponsor you at your choice of culinary school. Le Bouveret, maybe. Or the ICI.”

Dr. Strange tugged Mr. Stark away from the omelet bar. “Let her do her job. The omelet you claim to adore is turning cold.”

“Right. One second.” Mr. Stark produced a business card seemingly from thin air and handed it to Elinor. “Call me if you’d like to take me up on my offer.”

Elinor took the card and carefully tucked it into her vest pocket. “Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Stark was a very sweet man. Elinor had never considered going into a culinary program, but she did think about managing a hotel of her own someday. She would never impose upon Mr. Stark to pay for hospitality school, but perhaps a letter of recommendation would be possible.

Elinor watched Mr. Stark and Dr. Strange return to their table, and even though they didn’t touch she could tell they were closer than mere friends. She was glad that Mr. Stark had someone in his life. He was a nice man.

“What would you like in your omelet?” Elinor asked the next guest in line.

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Any, any m/m,

I've run out of clean utensils, I'm a hungry nasty lonesome man
I heard the crows outside my window, guess it's me they're talkin' about
The fire you lit has burnt to cinders, every good things fizzled out
Beans for breakfast once again, hard to eat 'em from the can.
(Johnny Cash)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, Rodney McKay, Orange Juice Blues (Bob Dylan)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Any,

Blueberries for breakfast,
Love in the afternoon
(The Mamas and the Papas)

[brumeier.livejournal.com]

Hawaii Five-0, Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams, breakfast for dinner

[4bdnsn0wflake.livejournal.com]

Author's Choice, any character(s), midnight breakfast at their favorite 24-hour greasy spoon

Fill: MCU, Clint Barton + Bruce Banner

[sharpiesgal.livejournal.com]

This diner on the outskirts of Jersey City was known by all the Avengers as Clint's favorite greasy spoon. If Clint had disappeared from the tower, then chances were he could be found there.

Bruce smiled when he spied Clint sitting at the counter involved in an in-depth conversation about the final season of Games of Thrones with the short order cook.

He sat down beside Clint and bumped him in the shoulder to get his attention.

Clint stopped in mid sentence and turned his head to regard Bruce. "Hi, Doc. They send you to bring me back?"

"No," Bruce replied, which was the truth. He hadn't been sent to bring Clint back. He was curious about this place since Clint raved about every chance he got. "Heard from a reliable source that the food here is to die for."

Clint softly laughed since he knew he was the reliable source Bruce was quoting. "You got any plans after breakfast?"

"Not really," Bruce answered. "I thought about just tooling along the Turnpike and see what I could see. Kinda need to get out of the lab and get some fresh air."

"In other words, Tony is driving you crazy," Clint surmised.

"In a word, yes."

Clint nodded. "Joe here makes a killer omlet."

"That actually sounds really good," Bruce admitted hoping Clint hadn't heard his stomach rumbling.

"Well, you better put in your order before the rush hits, so that we can get on with our roadtrip," Clint suggested with a grin since he had heard Bruce's stomach making known its displeasure of being empty.

Bruce chuckled amused at how Clint just invited himself along on Bruce's impromptu roadtrip and did as Clint suggested. It was going to be an interesting day.

[creepy_shetan]

author's choice, any, skipping breakfast was a mistake

[creepy_shetan]

any crime/police/lawyer fandom, any pair or ensemble, "When did you--No, how did you make that?"

Fill: CSI: Miami/CSI: NY, Horatio Caine/Mac Taylor

[sharpiesgal.livejournal.com]

Mac stumbled into the kitchen in search of coffee and his lover. They had worked late the night before to solve their current case, so all he wanted to do was stay in bed and sleep the day away. Unfortunately, he was the head of the crime lab and therefore had to show up for work to make certain that all the reports were filled out and signed off on.

He stopped in his tracks as he watched Horatio casually move around the kitchen whistling. His lover was cooking which made Mac leary about entering the kitchen.

"Stop lurking and come eat," Horatio said not bothering to turn and look at Mac. He had the uncanny ability to know who was behind him at all times.

"That depends on what you tried to make this time," Mac told the redhead making no effort to enter the kitchen.

"Come see for yourself," Horatio remarked as he stepped aside to reveal their breakfast.

Intrigued Mac entered the kitchen and studied what Horatio managed to conjure up from what was still edible in the refrigerator.

"When did you--No, how did you make that?"

"If I told you, I would have to kill you and I like you a little too much to do that," Horatio joked.

"Nevermind, I don't want to know," Mac simply stated not awake enough to deal with Horatio's jokes. "Just pour me some coffee and give me a piece of whatever the hell that is."

Horatio brushed a kiss against Mac's cheek and said, "Good morning, sunshine," before doing as requested.

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

Veronica Mars, Veronica mars /dick Casablancas, blueberries pancakes

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

True blood, Eric northman /Jason Stackhouse , blood and toast seems gross

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

One direction rpf, girl zayn mailk /Harry styles, spam and eggs

[emmatheslayer.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Benny /Dean Winchester, making breakfast burritos together